How I Spent My Trip to Paris
by Erik'sBelleNoire
Summary: A woman enters her incredible romantic weekend story in a radio station's contest. Based on the physical description of Erik from Phantom of the Opera, used in both the musical and the movie. Please read and review, its appreciated.
1. The Contest

How I Spent My Trip to Paris

Part One-The Contest

* * *

Riana loved the rain, the soft falling rain that smelled like a combination of honeysuckle and fresh cut grass, but it wasn't always so. Rain used to mess up her good hair days, made her windshield wipers squeak and put those disgusting water rings all across her two hundred dollar Italian suede pumps. 

That was before…

Now as an early morning rain fell, she sat in a dimly lit radio station studio at KTVW in Cincinnati, staring across at a rather attractive blonde woman wearing a headset and speaking into a large microphone.

_God, don't they use lights this early in the morning?_

"And now, as promised, this is the final of our submissions picked for our Most Romantic Weekend Encounter contest. As we've stated before, the winner….voted on by you listeners….gets one roundtrip plane ticket anywhere in the world." Jennifer Broch spoke while waving for Riana to put on her headset. "So, please let's welcome Riana Hughes from right here in Cincinnati. Hello Riana, I'm so glad you're here, hope you're not nervous." She smiled.

"No, I'm fine, thank you." Riana replied into the microphone.

"And your story is entitled, 'How I Spent My Trip to Paris', is the correct?"

"Yes, I know it's not terribly original, but..." Riana choked the words out a bit nervouslessly than she'd hoped, then bit her lip to stop herself from saying anymore until she could regain composure.

Jennifer smiled understandingly then asked, "Good, well then, are you ready to read your submission for our audience?"

"Yes." She unfolded her papers that had been sitting in her lap and she cleared her throat.

Jennifer smiled brightly with her oh so perfectly straight, dental whitened teeth and motioned for her to begin when she was ready before sitting back and sipping her Starbucks double tall latte.

Clearing her throat again, Riana began reading…

* * *

**A/N: This story will be short but sweet. I hope that everyone reads and reviews it. I'll add more here shortly.**

**Thanks, Melissa ;)**


	2. Wishing on Stars

How I Spent My Trip to Paris

Part Two-Wishing On Stars

* * *

My best friend Aimee and I have always wished upon the stars. First stars of the night, falling stars, you name it, we wished. Call us superstitious if you will, I was taught by a wonderful Cajun grandmother, one never takes too many chances in life. One night last summer, we sat on the back balcony of my apartment, as we always did on nights like that… warm, breezy and clear… looking up at the stars. 

"Did you get your plane ticket today?" She kicked my chair with her sandaled foot to get my attention.

I answered rather sheepishly, "Yeah. I fly to New York, but I don't have to disembark if I don't have to, they'll just take on new passengers and flight crew, they said it won't take but about a half hour, I'll slip a bag in my carry on with a sandwich in it to eat."

"That's good. You still gonna hit the Opera House when you get there?" she asked me, eyeing the notebook in my lap, that had only one sentence on it.

_Welcome Ladies and Gentlemen…_

I nodded. Although I was excited about seeing the Paris Opera House for the first time, my mind was distracted, I just wasn't in the mood.

She laughed. "You still haven't written your opening speech?"

I looked at her then and answered, "Nope. I don't know what to say."

"Its easy, you tell them thanks for coming and you say something cute and charming and then you start the seminar…" then she groaned, "just write something so I can interpret for you and be done with it."

I groaned back at her…_easy for her to say_. She didn't have to go to France and give her first ever seminar in Adobe Photoshop. Thank God it was Photoshop for beginners, at least I didn't have to worry about making any fancy graphics right away. I sighed, my head falling back against the chair. I didn't want to write a speech, I didn't want to bother with Aimee interpreting it, who cares if she'd been to France four times in as many years. All I could think about was Jason.

Three months. Three months since he'd left me for someone else. I was bitter, I admitted it freely. Bitter and angry and I didn't want to get over it anytime soon.

"I'll work something up on the plane, don't worry. I can get someone in Paris to translate and help me with pronunciation. Surely, someone speaks French in Paris." I quipped at her, half humorous, half sarcastic.

She snorted. She knew what was on my mind as well as I did.

"When are you going to move on from him?"

"When I get answers." I snapped back quickly.

"After three months, what answers do you want?"

"Why. That's all I want to know. What did I do to make him mess around on me?"

She threw up her hands in a gesture of defeat, "Face it. You aren't going to get anything from him. He used you, he dumped you, he moved on. _You_ didn't do anything wrong."

I looked at the stars again. How unfair. I wished on stars all the time and all I got for my trouble was Jason. Jason, so incredibly attractive, successful, a catch, they all said. Jason, so arrogant, the womanizer, the skirtchaser, the one I thought I foolishly could change.

How could I have been so wrong?

Aimee poked me and said cheerily. "You need another man."

"Yeah, right."

"You need Erik." She laughed at me. That made me smile momentarily.

"My own personal Opera Ghost, yep, that's what I need."

"Sure. A man who loves you unconditionally and completely. All women want that."

I laughed at her this time. Yes, I loved Phantom of the Opera, but this was the 21st century!_But, Ithink I could do without the murderous side effects._

I turned sharply to her. "Forget it. I'm done with men, and I'm done with wishing."

"Awww, come one…let's wish…one last wish before you just give it all up, ok?" Aimee sat up, her eyes brightly shining in the moonlight and the glow of the lamp from inside the open balcony doors. They glowed like amber. God, she was so gorgeous, so lucky! Her auburn hair was always perfectly fixed, laying on top of her shoulders like strands of gold, her ivory skin dotted with just the right amount of freckles that made men forget their own names. She never lacked for dates. Never. Not that she needed dates anymore after marrying Cole, by far, the best catch this side of the Great Lakes. This is probably what gave her such a positive outlook. She always saw the bright side, the light at the end of the tunnel, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow….you get the idea.

Me, I'm just _me_….plain Jane, simple light brown hair, green eyes, but Aimee never says that, she says I'm beautiful. She says the lighter highlights in my hair make my skin shimmer. She says my soft purple eyeshadow makes my green eyes pop out like emeralds from the longest lashes she's ever seen. She says my ample hips and long muscular legs would make dancers envious. I would only laugh at her. I didn't feel it, nope, didn't feel it one bit. But hey, that's what friends are for, right?

I sat up and laid down the notebook, leaning forward, my elbows resting on my legs and looked up at the sky. "The stars are all out now; it's too late to wish on the first one."

"Let's wait on a falling one; Cole told me the Stargazer said something about supernova lights or something tonight."

My mood brightened. "Yeah?" I can't believe Cole watches Stargazer! Was that show still around?

We waited then, and waited and waited.

_God, I hate waiting…._

Finally there it was. A falling star. Suddenly, a second one!

I squealed, "Oh my God!"

_Good going, Cole!_

Aimee jumped and pointed, "You take that one; I'll take this one, quick!"

I looked at the one closest to me and closed my eyes hard, making the most simple wish I could before it disappeared behind the horizon.

_Please, falling star….just let me forget Jason Stedman ever existed...and bring me someone to help me forget…._

I looked over and saw Aimee with her eyes still closed. I waited and waited. How long could one wish take? I couldn't help but ask her when she finally opened her eyes and exhaled softly, "My God, what did you wish anyway?"

She laughed, "You know I can't tell. But I can say this; I didn't wish for me, I wished a wish for you."

"Uh? You wasted your wish on me?"

She laughed, "Yep."

"Are you that good to me, or am I that desperate?"

"What do you think?"

I looked at her, honestly unable to give a definitive answer. Truly I couldn't. She is that good to me, but I know I'm desperate. I had to be to just wish on a falling star. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to pry further, the clock struck one in the morning and I had to be at the airport for the eight-thirty flight.


	3. Too Good to Be True?

How I Spent My Trip to Paris

Part Three-Too Good to Be True?

* * *

The flight from Cincinnati to New York was rather uneventful, boring even. I sat with my notebook in my lap, writing and erasing about a thousand times before I groaned and gave up, opting instead to look out my window as we glided over the blanket of clouds. I dozed I think, because before long, I was suddenly sitting still at JFK airport in New York, waiting for the new passengers to arrive onboard.

I took my sandwich out of my bag, nibbling on it as I looked down at my notebook and soon found myself trying to write again….

_Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Photoshop for Beginners seminar. I appreciate everyone for coming today…._

I stopped again, unable to put into words exactly what I wanted to say. Plus, there was a bumping noise above my head. What was that and why didn't it stop?

I looked up and saw someone attempting to put a carry on in the compartment above my seat. I'd been lucky enough to get a first class ticket (after saving pennies and a generous donation from my Aunt and Uncle) and all the way to New York, I'd been by myself in my row, but now it seems that the New York to Paris first class section was filling up. I wouldn't be alone now.

_Perfect._ This would not help my situation in the least.

I could tell from what little I saw at first, was that my new seatmate was a man, wearing a dark button down shirt, no jacket, and a nice pair of black slacks. His head was too far above to see clearly yet, stuck inside the overhead compartment playing tug of war with his carry on, I was sure.

Nothing else significant happened again until we'd been in the air for about twenty minutes. I'd finally gotten enough of a headache that it forced me to look up from my notes and wave for the flight attendant to bring me a soft drink. I rubbed my eyes. They hurt too. Plus, I just wanted this speech finished, thanking the stars above, or at least the people at the NAPP that I didn't have to do this seminar totally in French or no telling what I'd be telling these poor people to do with their layers palette.

The flight attendant brought me my soda and as I was drinking it, I finally looked over at the person next to me. Well, not directly next to me. There were three seats in each section and I was in the window seat, the middle seat was empty and the man was in the aisle seat. I saw him from a profile.

_Umm…not bad_, I said to myself. He had dark hair that was back away from his face and lay just below the top of his collar. He had an olive complexion, not too dark, not too light. He wore a rather obvious five o'clock shadow. Yes, I notice those things. I mean, it isn't five o'clock, is it?But, Idigress. I also found that he was writing in a hardbound folder….no, not writing, I squinted nosily to check…he was sketching something….but I couldn't make out what, it was rather detailed.

Then it happened. He turned to set his folder down and I saw it. He wore a mask. No lie, a real live mask on the left side of his face. I couldn't help but chuckle and thank God he didn't appear to hear me. Not that there was anything funny per say about this mask, it was just…ironic. Me, a fan of the Phantom and here was a man wearing a mask, too good to be true.

The mask was not white, but more of a darker cream, almost close to a flesh color. It blended well with his skin tone, almost so well it could very well disappear. But strangely, with no strap or string going around his head, I wasn't sure how he was keeping it on. Double sided tape perhaps, I surmised.

I turned away, and tried not to ask myself the most obvious question. Why was this man wearing a mask? More importantly, I became aware that I was not the only one that had noticed this 'man in the mask'. And these people were far more gawkish than I was. Why did he not seem to be aware of them?

I would say about another ten minutes passed before I started to feel that all too familiar feeling that I was being watched, so my head popped up. I turned and found the masked man looking at me. My God, he wasn't even subtle! And heavens, staring with nothing less, but the most beautiful set of eyes I'd ever seen. Then I did something so silly that I almost wanted to throw myself off the plane….I stammered and heaven help me, blurted out, "Uh…hi."

_God, you IDIOT!_

"Hello." He replied back, smooth as butter. He was French, it was rather obvious by the accent.

"You…you were staring at me…"

_Another blunder. Good going stupid…_

He laughed softly, "My apologizes, Madame, you were mumbling and I wanted to be sure you were alright."

I was mumbling? Damnit, I do that when I'm stressed. I didn't even realize it.

"Oh. I'm sorry, I'm rather distracted…"

"It's quite alright…" he smiled and began to turn his head away, but stupid me,I just kept right on going as if he hadn't spoken.

"…I'm trying to write a speech and I still have to get it translated in French plus practice the pronunciation and get it all done by later tonight as I'm meeting with some people and I might not have time to finish it otherwise...I hardly even know them but they invited me out and not being from Paris, it seemed like the best idea...but now I'm not so sure, so needless to say I'm rather…." I stopped my one, long, incredible unbroken sentencewhen I found he was leaning towards me, his elbows on his armrest, studying me. Listening to me. He was actually _listening_ to my ramble!

"A speech?"

"Yes, I'm giving a seminar and I've been asked to give my opening remarks in English and in French."

"Et vous ne parlez pas français." He said. I couldn't tell if he meant it as a question or as a statement, but I simply nodded in reply. At least that I knew, just enough French to get by, so I tried it.

"Un peu." I said back to him and he smiled. "I hope I said that right."

"If you meant _a little_, then you did, Madame."

"I took French in high school and a couple of courses in college, but I never used it much after that, I only recall some of the more common words and phrases. I can hear and read it, understand it some, but I can't reply back very well. You know, all those verbs and tenses…."

"Yes, French is a difficult language, most people can understand the general meaning, but still not be able to communicate. Perhaps I can help you with your speech?"

I thanked the powers that be for this! "Yes, thank you." I breathed out.

He moved to the middle seat and I handed him my notebook. He looked over the little bit I'd written so far and nodded. "Why don't you tell me what you want to say and I'll transcribe it in both languages?"

"That's my problem. I don't know what to say, well sorta…I mean I know what I want to convey, but putting it on paper is so difficult."

"Yes, the worst part of speech writing, Madame…uh…"

I watched as his lips curled in a slight frown and I realized in a moment of clarity in the lovely fog, that he was inquiring my name.

"Oh, it's Mademoiselle…Hughes…Riana Hughes."

He offered his hand to me and I took it and watched as he brought them to those beautiful lips, kissing them softly before replying, "Je m'appelle Erik, Erik Renault."

What? His name could _not_ be Erik!

And then it happened. I laughed. Not just laughed, but laughed loud, dear God, I think I actually snorted! The combination of the mask and the name Erik just… I couldn't help myself.

Erik's reaction was one of shock, as if I'd slapped him.

_Can't say as I blame him, I hate the way I laugh. The whole airplane must be looking at me now!_

I stopped abruptly and blushed profusely. How rude and utterly tacky of me. _Good job, stupid_, I was not making a great first impression. First I stammered and blurted, then I rambled; now I had laughed at him like a drunken hyena, what was next, spewing my soft drink all over his nice button down shirt?

"I'm so sorry, forgive me, but your name and…" I dumbly pointed to his mask, half expecting him to cover it with his hand, scowl like a wounded animal and turn away, but amazingly, he did none of that, he just smiled again.

_My God, what most lovely, delicious smile._

"Yes, Phantom of the Opera. I get that often." He told me matter of factly, as if the poor man had encountered stupidity like mine a thousand, nay a million times over and had to handle it with the same grace and dignity he'd just shown me.

"I can imagine you do. Its just that I….well I love Erik, er…Phantom….you know, the story, the musical….i've read several different books, of course nothing touches the original Leroux one, yet I've found that going through different libraries over the years there have been several that I enjoyed reading and…"

_Shut up! You're rambling again!_

My mouth finally caught up with my brain and I stopped talking completely. A long pause and we just stared at one another. I was too embarrassed about my actions to even attempt to try anything else _but_ stare; finally, he broke the silence first and said to me, "Close your eyes."

"Uh?"

"The speech? Close your eyes, visualize yourself at your seminar and tell me what you want to say."

"Oh! Ummm, ok…" I closed my eyes and pictured myself standing at the long table, a laptop open at my fingertips, the big view screen behind me, a good two hundred people in front of me. I began….

_Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Riana Hughes. Welcome to Photoshop for Beginners, sponsored by the National Association of Photoshop Professionals. I'm thrilled you all could be here today and I feel certain that, even in just this one day tutorial, I can help every one of you feel more comfortable and more familiar with Adobe Photoshop CS2. Now, let me tell you more about myself……_

* * *

**A/N: I'll add another two chapters tomorrow. Hope you all enjoy!**

**Melissa ;)**


	4. Melting In The Rain

How I Spent My Trip to Paris

Part Four: Melting In The Rain

* * *

An hour later, it was done…. 

"Ok, read this sentence again, this was your most troublesome…" Erik instructed me, pointing to the first sentence in my last paragraph.

"Umm…ok…Et en conclusion, j'espère vraiment que ce que je peux donner vous apporter pendant cette conférence est un sens merveilleux de ce que Photoshop peut faire pour vous. Que vous soyez un photographe novice ou un expert en matière de graphiques d'enchaînement, rien n'est hors de votre portée. Merci, et commençons."

"Much better. You do well when you go slow and try not to rush it." He smiled.

"But if I go slow, won't they suspect that I don't know French?" I asked, trying to crack a joke, but failing miserably.

He laughed a deep, throaty laugh and I couldn't help but smile at it. He was such a good sport. "Yes, but quite honestly, they'd know that anyway. Don't worry, they'll appreciate the effort."

"I feel like quite the dummy." I sighed.

"Nonsense. Your speech was very witty, informative and intelligent. I envy you, you can create art on a computer, and I have no clue how to even begin something like that."

"I wouldn't say that, I saw you sketching something rather interesting on your notebook there…." I pointed to the folder.

His eyes glistened at me. Did they just change color?

"So you were watching me?" his voice was soft and smooth and it made me blush…again. God, how many times would I be doing this?

"Well, I….you were sitting there and I couldn't help but see…."

He held up his hand. "Just useless drawings, stuff to pass the time…nothing like you do….I'd love to be able to create like that."

"Maybe you should take my class." I blurted out playfully, but for some reason, it didn't come out that way, it almost came out as a…..dare I say it, an invitation?

What was I thinking? My mind screamed.

_Are you insane? You barely know this man, and what about Jason?_

Yeah, what about Jason? I hadn't thought about Jason the whole flight!

So when he said, "I might just do that." Needless to say, I was floored.

But then he laughed and the moment was over. Oh well….he caught the joke. Or, did he? That laugh was not of amusement but of…nervousness? _He_ was nervous?

For another few moments, we simply stared at each other once more. I marveled at him. Did his eyes just change color _again_?

And that mask. I'd almost forgotten about it, the way it blended in, but now that I could see him up close, I examined it. It was almost a smooth, but very hard plastic, not the leather kind I'd figured the real Phantom wore. Then my eyes drifted downward and I saw more….

There were scars going down just below the mask, down the side of his neck before disappearing into his shirt collar. No, they weren't typical scars, but patches, patches of mismatched skin, enclosed in deeper scars that were almost fiery red, in long strips almost like a tattered quilt. I couldn't keep my eyes off of it.

Finally, I _had_ to stop looking. Not because I found those scars and the mask to be grotesque, far from it, but because he'd seen me. He watched as I visibly examined each inch of his scarred neck, yet he didn't seem to be the least bit put off. No matter. I suddenly felt very wrong for looking and I met his eyes again, exchanging non verbal smiles.

The rest of the flight we did nothing but talk. Talked and talked about everything. I'd found out that he'd been born in Rouen, raised in Paris and studied architecture in London, where he now resides and works. He'd been in New York, meeting with a potential client, a large chain department store, although he was reluctant to say which one, to work plans for a new store to open in New Jersey. He was now on his way to Paris, to visit his father, who was in his late eighties and in an assisted living facility there, before returning to London.

He asked about me, and listened with those intense, beautiful eyes as I explained how I'd grown up in New Orleans with my grandmother after my parents had died in a car accident when I was 6, then taken in by my Aunt and Uncle in Cincinnati when I was 17 after my grandmother had died. How I'd met Aimee the first day I'd gone to the new school there. How we went off to college at Ohio State together where I studied computer graphics and she'd studied Childhood Education and was now a 3rd grade teacher. How Aimee had met Cole, who is a high school football coach and had married just six months ago and how wonderful he was about putting up with the maid of honor, always around like a third wheel, a lost puppy….

…and how I always wished on stars.

Erik smiled, "You like wishing on stars….nothing wrong with that."

"It is when they don't work. After all these years of wishing and I get nothing…sometimes its best to wake up and realize, it's not going to happen."

"What's not going to happen?"

"Love."

"Awww….you don't need stars to find love." He quipped softly.

I sighed. I couldn't help it. He seemed like me, a hopeless romantic. How lucky would I be if we could….

I looked at his hand, frantically searching for a wedding ring, or at worse, the dent of one.

_He had to be married….the good ones always are, right?_

The flight attendant told everyone to prepare for landing and I was totally disappointed. Yes, I hated flying, but I also knew that once we touched down in Paris, Erik and I would part. He'd go his way, I'd go mine. God, I hated the thought, but what could I do, the coward that I am? No way could I be brave enough to ask him…..

The plane landed and everyone stood to get their belongings. Erik was kind enough to get my bag down after he'd removed his out of the way and I packed my notebook inside in silence. I guess I didn't hide my disappointment as well as I thought.

He looked at me and said, "Is everything alright, Riana?"

I looked up at him, embarrassed I was pouting like a child, but damn, I didn't want to just walk away from his man, but I was too much of a coward to tell him so.

"Yes." Was all I replied.

And then it happened. He stammered. _He_ stammered. "Uh…I…"

I raised my eyebrows. Even his stammering was charming.

"Would you like…to…uh, have dinner or something tonight?"

_Oh no! Not dinner!_ I couldn't do it, I was meeting with the organizers of the seminar tonight for dinner. I screamed inwardly, _No!_

He could see I was going to refuse. His eyes darkened again. God, not that, for heaven's sake…

"I'm meeting with the photoshop people tonight, I'm sorry. But….I could meet you somewhere after?"

_There, you did it, good girl!_

"Dessert and coffee perhaps?" he asked hopefully.

"I'd love to."

His elation was apparent, as was mine. "Let me give you my cell number." He said softly as he pulled out his wallet. He opened it and pulled out a business card. Then, grabbing a pen out of his jacket pocket, he wrote down his cell number on the back of it beforehanding it to me with a bright smile.

I looked at it….

_Erik J. Renault_

_EJR Architecture, Inc._

_Paris, France_

I clutched to the card, tan in color with the cutest little fleur de lys in the corners, and placed it in the back pocket of my jeans. "Thanks, I'll call you when I finish dinner. I'm supposed to meet them in the lounge of my hotel at six o'clock."

"I'll be waiting for your call."

He moved away and allowed me to get into the aisle before him. With the rush of people, he was pressed against me and I could feel his breath against my hair. What a wonderful feeling that was! I couldn't help but laugh, but he didn't appear to see me and he certainly didn't seem to notice my body shudder openly when I felt his body push against mine.

* * *

More than a few, agonizing minutes later, we were in the front of the airport. He'd summoned me a taxi and told the driver in his lovely and flawless French where to take me before pushing a few Euros into his hand.

"You didn't have to do that, I already had some money." I told him.

"I don't mind, so don't worry." He replied firmly. I sensed I shouldn't balk about it, and I didn't.

He looked down at me and smiled as the driver put my luggage into the taxi. "Do you have a preference for a place to have our dessert tonight?"

"I'm new to Paris, so why don't you pick a place?"

"I think I can manage that. I know a nice place that is open late, great dessert et café…."

I laughed softly. He was too good to be true. Surely he's married, my mind told me again. This time, I didn't want to think it; I just didn't want to know.

He hugged me then and I felt myself melt into his embrace. He smelled wonderful, very little cologne… more man smell, a good smell nevertheless. As our embrace broke, my hands slid down his neck and that was the first time my hand felt the scars. God, they were rough, deeper than I'd first suspected and I found myself exploring them further than I should have.

He jumped. _Oh shit, what did I do?_

"I'm so sorry, did I hurt you?"

He turned away. This was the first time he'd acted uncomfortable about anything to do with his appearance. I felt terrible. Damn my roaming hands!

"No, it doesn't hurt, it's just….sensitive…I don't get touched there often…well…actually, not at all." He replied with a soft, nervous laugh.

"Oh. Again, I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He said quickly. "As I said, it didn't hurt."

I wanted to ask what it felt like if it didn't _hurt_. I wanted to ask what had happened to him to get those kinds of scars. I wanted to ask about the mask and what was under it. So much I wanted to know, but knew I couldn't, not just yet anyway.

And then the rain started to fall.

"Oh no…" I groaned. I knew I should have brought an umbrella with me.

"What's wrong, don't you like the rain?" he asked me with a soft laugh.

I watched as the rain made little droplets on his mask. "I've never been one for rain I guess….now everything's going to get wet and I hate that I didn't bring an umbrella."

He grinned at me, "Don't worry, it's a short rain, won't last long, besides, nobody ever meltedin the rain…"

I smiled at him, the optimist, and hugged him once more. "I'll see you tonight."

He took my hand, kissed it again and nodded.

I got inside the taxi and as I pulled away, I turned around and watched him through the rain spotted window….watching me…..until we could no longer see each other.

_Nobody ever melted in the rain…umm…_


	5. Memories Resurface

How I Spent My Trip to Paris

Part Five-Memories Resurface

* * *

The dinner with Ron and Amy, the organizers of the seminar, was a total bore. And not just because I was thinking of Erik, but because the two of them are just…well, how can I put this delicately….geeks. They spoke to me, yes, but when they chose to speak to each other, they spoke _above_ me. I hate that. I know I'm a novice to these types of seminars, I know that I'd only gotten this lucky break because I knew how to sweet talk and I could tell that Ron and Amy weren't happy about it. I just wanted it over with. So truly, the fact they spoke to each other about layers, quick mask mode and the debate over curves versus threshold (which I frankly didn't understand) didn't make much difference as long as the clock ticked quickly. 

Eight o'clock came. I was social enough for one evening. I was ready to go. Glad to be in the hotel restaurant, I thanked them for having me (and for paying my dinner bill), told them I had tons of notes to look over before the seminar tomorrow, and exited quickly to my room. I barely got two seconds inside before I ran leaped onto the bed, grabbing my cell phone to dial Erik's number.

We agreed to meet in the hotel lobby and I found myself hiding behind a large potted plant when I realized that Ron and Amy were still in the lounge chewing the fat. I played with the leaves of this same plant when I felt eyes again.

Erik. I knew it. It hadn't been ten minutes…where had he come from?

His face scowled as I darted out from behind my hiding place and grabbed him by the arm, almost throwing him out of the hotel lobby.

"Hello again." He said, his breath being knocked out of his lungs.

I laughed, "Hi….uh, don't mind me, I was avoiding my dinner companions."

"I see." He stopped me outside the hotel and hugged me again.

Again, I melted. Instant reaction. He'd showered….he smelled fresh and clean, his hair slightly wet and that cologne….what was that?

"Ummm…." I inhaled.

I could feel him laugh deeply against me, it vibrated. "Anything wrong?" he asked.

"Oh no….I was trying to identify your cologne, I don't recognize it."

Little chance in that. All the cologne I'd remembered smelling in my dating life was Jason's Drakkar Noir and….

Ralph Lauren?…..holy shit….why did I suddenly think of….Jeffrey?

In my shock I pulled away from Erik. He noticed.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, just trying to identify…."

"Burberry Brit…" he said softly.

I'd never heard of it, but I knew, after this trip, I'd be keeping a bottle in my medicine cabinet, just to smell….

"Something else I think." His eyes met mine, cutting the deep tension that I hadn't noticed until that moment.

Instantly, I thought of Jeffrey. Not fair, just not fair. So long ago and here he was coming into my mind when I was feeling an attraction to a man? This didn't even happen with Jason. But…Jason, we only dated for five months and we didn't have sex….

And Erik…I was considering…oh, was I considering!

I shook my head, "How about that dessert?"

Erik was smart. God, so damn smart. He saw, but he didn't push further.

* * *

If it was possible to feel like you knew someone after meeting them just a few hours ago, it was possible with Erik. He had no problem telling me all about himself...college days, his job that he'd had for seven years...and yet, while I was happy that he was so open with me, so free, I noticed that his story started only after the age of twelve. All I knew before that was that he was born in Rouen.

And where was his mother? Although he talked about his father extensively, he never mentioned her.

I had to ask, curiosity demanded…..big mistake.

"What about your mother, is she living?"

Erik's smile that he'd kept for the past half hour faded quickly.

_Yep, huge mistake Riana._

"She's dead." He said flatly. Not mournful, but…flat. He'd heard me talk about my parents and my grandmother; he heard the sad tone in my voice. How I missed Grandma, I truly did. This was not the tone of missing; this was….well, like I said, flat. Almost as if he spoke of someone else, not his own mother.

"I'm sorry." I replied. "I know the loss of a loved one and how it can hurt."

His abrupt change in subject almost knocked me out of my chair. "So tell me more about this seminar."

I eyed him and decided smartly not to pry further. None of my business anyway.

"Well, it's basic really. For beginners, I'll show them how to set up their preferences, how to set up their monitors and printer settings to get the best prints from their digital photographs. How to crop, reduce red-eye, that kind of thing."

"So, no creations, eh?"

"Nope. Not this time."

He appeared disappointed. "I was hoping to see some of your work."

I brightened up immediately. "I have some stuff stored online, both for work and just goofing around. I'd love to show you."

"Do you have a laptop with you?"

"In my hotel room, we could go there." I stopped.

_My hotel room?_ Dangerous….very dangerous…

He smirked and I felt myself blush again. He leaned forward, resting on his elbows on the table and in his perfectly soft toned voice, with those perfect lips, his perfect eyes shining, said to me, "Is this your way of getting me into your room tonight?"

_God I hate perfect!_

I stammered again. _Wake up you idiot! What did you have to lose? Thisisn't Jason, thisisn't Jeffrey!_

Jeffrey again? My hand flew to my hips….the scars….almost gone now, except the one on my lower back. That one would never go away…too deep…too much pain….

A thousand images suddenly flashed. Me, cowering on the floor, covering myself, my hands not adequate enough to repel the multiple blows, the kicks, those damn boots… I hated them so much. Him standing over me, yelling, accusing, hateful words, kick after kick. Pain…stabbing, searing pain…a crack, another broken bone…

I gasped, I didn't mean to, but I did. After five years, why was it coming back now?

I looked at Erik and realized he had noticed my rather obvious discomfort. "I'm sorry….I was rather forward, it's just that I…"

I had to stop him. Grabbing his hand, I said softly, "You were being charming as always, it's me, I should apologize. Your words did take me by surprise, I'm flattered…."

"But…" he said. Was he expecting me to turn him down?

I narrowed my eyes. "But, nothing. I would love for you to come to my room and see my work…."

His breath was soft as he exhaled and I smiled at it as if blew across my cheek. I could still smell his dessert, crème brûlée. I'll never forget how much I wanted to taste it on his lips at that very moment.

* * *

By ten thirty we were in my hotel room and I had my laptop hooked up to the hotel room's internet line. We sat on the bed and I put the laptop between us as I logged on and show him the stuff I had stored. He stared at them in awe, while I stared at him in awe.

He spoke of my talent, compliment after compliment and I could do nothing but stare at his mask. I wanted to know why it was there. It was overwhelming. I wanted to see what was underneath it. He didn't appear to be ashamed of the mask, even as people would do double takes as they passed by. They weren't even subtle, but he was oblivious. I guess he'd have to be, the mask wasn't a new thing for him.

He turned his head and looked at me and I was still staring. Slowly, he removed the laptop from between us and sat it on the floor by the bed. Still, I stared, lost in my own thoughts. At least until he touched his lips to mine. That woke me up, woke me up immediately.

As I succumbed to his advances, his strong arms surrounded me. His hands started at my hips, but soon traveled upward to rest gently around my neck, his thumbs stroking my skin. Never had a simple kiss been so…complex. His lips tasted me. His tongue ran along my bottom lip, coaxing my mouth to open further. When it did, he enclosed his mouth totally over mine and allowed his tongue to dart inside my now open mouth, seeking my tongue, which until that moment had been hidden, afraid to emerge. I tasted his tongue then and I gasped… what an incredible sensation! Jason had never kissed like this….Jeffrey….no, never…he never let me…..feel anything…

When I gasped, a surge of energy went through the both of us. I swear, pure energy. He was spurred on by my show of sublimation and his one hand twined in my hair, gripping hard, but not painfully…another first for me and I loved it.

Where were my hands you ask? My hands had been fortunate to find his chest, rubbing his sculpted pectoral muscles through his silky button down shirt before resting on his hips, gripping at the shirt as he gripped at my hair.

And then….as with all things that happen with me, something went wrong….

I had run my hands back up his chest as my lips hungrily fought to nibble on his. They reached his neck and while I felt his scars, that wasn't what had been the problem. My hand…my stupid, curious hand….hit the mask. Bumped it innocently, yes and that would have been alright if I hadn't…well…I kept my hand there and just like the Phantom's Christine, that stupid Christine that I had cursed a thousand times for removing his mask so suddenly…

Did I remove Erik's mask? No. But I came damn close.

He growled and pulled away, his hand flying to his mask and immediately, I knew I'd messed up. Truly, I wasn't going to remove it, but it was the first time I'd felt it. It was cool and much smoother than I'd imagined, very slick, almost the feel of those protective masks I've seen athletes wear after they've had a broken nose, except Erik's wasn't clear plastic, it was a material of some sort, but for the life of me I couldn't identify it.

"I'm so sorry. I swear I wasn't going to remove it." I told him, my voice still breathless from the passion we'd just shared moments earlier.

"I…I know…it just…shocked me, that's all, forgive my abruptness."

We forgave each other, but needless to say, the moment was lost.

The silence that followed was almost deafening. I struggled for the right words to say, to tell him that I wanted to know what was underneath the mask, but I simply was too afraid. He didn't have to tell me, it was very clear now that whatever happened, still affected him greatly.

"I know it's none of my business…" I finally said.

"You want to know…."

I nodded.

He turned away and I felt my heart sink. I'd pushed. I should have said no.

"Not now." He said softly. "Not just yet."

I touched his arm. "Whenever you're ready…and if you're never ready, I'll understand." I was relieved, the moment was done and we could move on.

Or so I thought. Of course, true to form, the tides turned….

I moved to put my laptop away and bending over to lay the laptop bag in the corner next to my suitcases, my shirt rode up, showing the scar on my back, that blasted scar.

"Oh…what happened?" he said, leaning forward to run his finger over the big patch of raised, slightly red skin, which ran two inches across, from my tailbone upward about five inches along my spine.

In immediate response, as a million times before, I answered, "Car accident."

_You liar!_

I did not turn around to see his face, so I don't know if he believed me or not, at least not then. When I did finally turn around, I could clearly see he wasn't sure.

"It seems I'm not the only one with secrets…."

I almost cried. How could he tell? The "car accident" excuse had always worked, always. No one questioned after that.

He coughed softly, then stood. "Perhaps I should go now."

"So soon?" I panicked. He would leave and it would be over. I couldn't handle that.

He pulled me to him and his arms wrapped around me, stroking my hips. "You have a seminar tomorrow and I will be spending the day with my father. But…I would love it if we could meet again?"

I smiled and I was sure my eyes glistened this time, it certainly felt like it. "I would love that."

"What time does your seminar end?"

"It's over at two o'clock."

"And it's downstairs?"

"Yes, in the large conference room."

"I'll meet you there at two tomorrow afternoon."

He let me go and walked to the door but I followed. "I'll be there." My hand went to the knob and opened the door.

He leaned down and kissed me again, this time on the cheek. I could feel that it wasn't what he wanted to do but what he _had_ to do to get himself out of there before he threw me to the floor. I didn't mind that idea, not one bit, but I let him go and as I shut the door and leaned against it, I knew….he would have to be told the truth, about Jason and especially, about Jeffrey.


	6. Getting To Know You

How I Spent My Trip to Paris

Part Six-Getting To Know You

* * *

Music played suddenly then and Riana jumped in her chair. 

"What a great first half of this story, don't you agree everyone?" Jennifer cheerily announced. "Unfortunately, we have to pay our bills, so let's pause for some commercials and when we return, we'll finish the second half of Riana's story."

Riana stood up then, removing her headphones. Her voice was tired already, she needed coffee, now.

Jennifer came and patted her on the back, "Well, its going very well Riana, you're doing great."

"Thanks."

"I know I've already read it, but I can't wait to here the rest of it again. I loved it." She grinned and walked out of the studio, with Riana close behind.

* * *

Aimee had kept Riana on the phone longer than expected and by the time she ran back to the studio, the music was playing and Jennifer had a rather panicked look on her face, which faded when she saw Riana sit down and pick up her headphones, mouthing a very sincere _I'm so sorry…._

"Welcome back. If you're just joining us, our last finalist in the Most Romantic Weekend Encounter Contest, Riana Hughes has just read the first half of her submission, 'How I Spent My Trip to Paris'. Are you ready to read the rest, Riana?"

"Yes, I'm ready." She sipped her coffee and began again…

* * *

The seminar the next day went rather well, to my delight. The speech appeared to be a hit; they laughed at the jokes and listened intensely. After that, everything fell into place. There were interpreters there, just in case there were words or phrases the people didn't understand, but they were not needed. At one thirty, I looked at my watch and realized that I'd finished a half hour early. I decided to open the floor to questions….not a good idea. Before I knew it, time slipped away and I panicked as I saw it was now fifteen minutes past two! Oh god, Erik was waiting for me!

I quickly ended the seminar, knowing I had at least another ten minutes ahead of me to shut down the laptop I was using on the overhead, plus Ron and Amy had suddenly run out on me. Weren't they supposed to help me put the chairs away? I groaned. This was not good at all. Putting the chairs away would be at least another fifteen minutes or more.

I had just put up the laptop when I looked up and saw Erik standing at the entrance to the conference room, staring right at me. _God, he's beautiful!_ I couldn't help but smile although I felt terrible for keeping him waiting.

We met each other in the center aisle and I opened my mouth, ready to throw out a dozen apologies when he stopped me with his finger on my lips.

"Its alright….it ran over I see." His voice was so understanding and calm.

"Yes, and Amy and Ron left and I still have to put up all these chairs and clear up the papers before I can go anywhere…."

"Then lets get to work…I want the rest of the night with you and the sooner we start, the sooner we can get out of here." He said, starting to pick up a couple of chairs.

I was speechless. Did he say the _rest of the night_? I chose not to question and immediately ran back to put the rest of the projection equipment away while Erik stacked the chairs.

In a half hour, we were finished. Well, almost. I decided that Ron and Amy should finish removing the heavier equipment since they had ran out on me. Who cares? I'd had to set it up; why not let them take it all down? Laughing, I grabbed Erik's hand and we left.

"What about the rest?" he asked.

"Let them finish it, I'm ready to explore Paris. Let me go to my room and change first." We headed for the elevator, my arms full of my laptop, notebooks and books, but as we passed the doors leading to the outside, I saw the skies had darkened and it began to rain again. My heart sank. No sightseeing this afternoon.

Erik saw my expression change and said softly, "Don't worry, I have an umbrella in my car."

I turned and nodded, but I was still not happy. I wanted to take pictures and dark rainy skies wouldn't help my cause.

"Just remember….no one ever…."

I punched the elevator button, "I know….melted in the rain…" I laughed and his eyes brightened. He pulled me into his arms and I heard him laugh against me again.

_Right_… my mind said…._no one must have been in the rain with you.

* * *

_

I opened the door to my room and we walked inside. I put everything on the second twin bed and flopped on the first one, the messy one, the one I'd tossed in the night before thinking about him. I shed my shoes and groaned at the feel of my poor feet aching.

"I can't wait to get into a good pair of loafers." I groaned again, laying back and looking up at the ceiling. I felt the bed move on one side and I became aware that Erik had sat next to me. He took my left foot in his hand and began to rub it gently.

Not a good idea, not one bit! I sighed, I moaned, I closed my eyes.

"That feels….insane…"

My eyes were closed but he smirked. I know he did, the gorgeous bastard. "It's supposed to."

His hands hit every sore spot in my foot and with each new spot, I would moan even louder, instructing him how hard or how soft to work it. When he moved to my other foot, I just couldn't take much more, especially when his hands didn't stay on my foot; he started moving up from my ankle to my lower calf. My eyes remained shut and I continued to groan softly, but my mind knew what was on his mind and my body….well it wasn't far behind.

The debate began inside me. Do I let this happen? Do I dare to let myself give in to this incredible man who'd I only known just a little over twenty four hours? His hands, so large, but incredibly gentle, kneaded the muscles in my calf, settling around my knee now. He wasn't speaking. I was only moaning.

I opened my eyes and saw him, noticing his eyes were also closed. And the mask, the mask…my God! It's the first time I'd really noticed the mask since I saw him again.

My mind was made up. I wanted to be with him. Still the coward, I was damn sure not going to make the move in that direction, but I didn't have to, his hands were doing it for us both.

He stopped massaging and now just his right hand remained, slowly moving up my right thigh, pushing the material of my navy blue skirt upward with it. I closed my eyes again, the feeling just too overwhelming to be believed. After all this time, I was going to be made love to, and by a Frenchman…you know what they say about Frenchmen being amazing lovers. I couldn't wait to test out that theory.

In instinct, my left hand drifted up his right arm, which he'd been steadying himself on the bed with. I reached his shoulder, my fingers lazily drifting inside the collar of his red, long sleeved cotton t-shirt to feel the soft skin of his shoulder. Amazing skin, like silk…

I felt a shift and I opened my eyes to find him looking down at me, his hand frozen at the outside of my upper thigh. His eyes spoke volumes. He wanted this too. I gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled him down to me.

_Sweet lord! When did I suddenly become so brave?_

It was a rush, a pure rush of sensation as his lips crushed mine, his hand gripping the flesh of my thigh. When his thumb hit the edge of my underwear, I swear he actually gasped as loudly as I did. His other hand pulled at my hair, forcing my head back and like a hungry animal, his lips enclosed around my neck, sucking the skin red.

I gasped again. Did I just feel teeth nibble me? _Oh my…._

As the rain pelted harder against the window, my heart beat faster. "God…" I said, breathless. If I was this far gone now, there would be no telling how bad off I'd be later.

"Tell me you want me as much as I want you, Riana." He begged, his breath brushing against my skin.

I nodded, how could I possibly form words now?

"Say the words, I need to hear them from your lips." He released my neck and looked into my eyes, his finger tracing my lower lip.

I cupped both sides of his face in my hands. "Yes, I want you, Erik."

Suddenly, he sat up, looking at me with an intense stare. Before I could ask the what's and why's, he forcefully turned me over onto my stomach. Pulling my dress shirt out of my skirt, his finger ran down my spine, from my neck to….that scar.

I knew what was coming.

"Then perhaps you should tell me more about this…" his finger settled on the raised angry skin, touching it delicately. My mouth opened, but not to speak, I couldn't speak. His touch was incredible. Soft and soothing.

"I…told you."

"But I don't believe you."

I turned my head towards him. So indeed, he knew my "car accident" excuse was just that. Well, this played into my hands. "I'll tell, if you tell." I gestured toward the mask and his eyes widened.

My lips curled into a small smirk. He didn't expect me to bargain.

Softly, he replied, turning me around and helping me to sit up. "Deal, but first, an early dinner…."

* * *

"So….Jason and I only dated for about five months…. I still don't know why he cheated on me, I suppose it's because we never ended up having sex…" I said between bites of warm garlic bread, sopping up the last of the remaining butter sauce from my shrimp scampi.

"Why? Didn't he want to be with you?" he replied, sipping his wine.

"Yes, but we had agreed to take it slow. I mean, we did many things….sexual things, just not intercourse. I figured we had plenty of time. I was wrong."

"You found you couldn't change him."

"Nope. I knew he got looks from other women, it was obvious. He was blonde haired and blue eyed, very handsome and I expected it. I thought, if I just….I don't know….didn't act jealous, he'd think I was a very understanding person. He'd always complained how his other girlfriends had almost stalked him, accusing him of cheating and I said to myself, I won't be that way….."

"But it didn't work out that way."

"Nope. I was foolish to think I was exclusive. My fault."

"And that's what you want, commitment."

I smiled, "Yes. Commitment…security…romance…"

He smiled in return. "Ah, yes…the mortal enemy of most males…commitment."

I looked down and decided not to answer that. Charming as it was, it was just too true.

"Jason isn't your problem here." He said quickly and I looked back up.

"No, he's not."

He stood then, taking my hand and walking me over to the small couch. It was time to get it all out and frankly, I was rather nervous. Not just because I had told _no_ man about Jeffrey, but also because I was anxious to hear about _his_ past, his history, the truth about the mask.

"Who should go first?" he asked as we settled down, both with our wine glasses still in hand. When I shrugged, he said to me, "You first."

I sighed. I guess that couldn't hurt. "Alright." I sat down my wine glass on the coffee table, tucked my legs under me and took a deep breath.

"Take your time, love." He said softly.

"His name was Jeffrey." I began, trying to keep it as clinical as possible. "We met just after I completed my Master's six years ago. I was still living in my Aunt and Uncle's house, in their downstairs apartment, paying them rent when I could from my part time job. I was…well….more overweight than I am now….about a good sixty pounds heavier…and I'd just had a relationship end by a guy who said I'd just gained too much weight and he couldn't be with me any longer…"

"Wow…." Erik said softly.

"Yeah. Jeffrey moved right in, making me feel as if I was a queen. At first anyway. Then it began….the cycle of abuse."

_Cycle of abuse_…..God, I truly _did_ sound clinical, just like all those psychiatrists.

"He beat you." Erik's voice deepened.

I could only nod, then I took another deep breath and continued, "Not often at first. He'd slap me around, then tell me he was sorry. I believed him. But, it escalated. Going from slaps to punches, punches to kicks, kicks to beatings. The whole while, saying I'd never leave him because no man would want me as fat as I was…no man would love me the way he did. He had me believing I deserved it, deserved what I got….it was love he said….tough love…"

"Bloody hell…"

"I know….I know better now, believe me. My Aunt and Uncle, God love them, never saw and I know I certainly wasn't raised that way. My parents loved each other completely….at least that's what Grandma always told me. Dad, he would have never touched Momma that way. Never."

He nodded. "So, how did you get away?"

I took his hand and put it on the scar on my back. "That."

"What happened?"

"I'd gone out with friends that night, Aimee and a few others from college. We goofed off, hitting a club to dance, flirt with cute guys, that kind of thing. Jeffery was supposed to be working late, or so he told me, but apparently it wasn't true. He was spying on me. To make a long story short, I danced with a couple of nice looking guys. Nothing but dancing mind you, but it was enough to make Jeffery insane. When I got home, he was waiting."

"And your Aunt and Uncle?"

"Gone for the weekend to Michigan."

"Oh no."

"Yes. Of course I let Jeffrey in; I didn't know what he had on his mind until it was too late. He accused me of cheating and began slapping me. I ran throughout the house, trying desperately to get to the phone but that only pissed him off worse. He kicked me and I fell to the ground, covering myself. He punched, kicked….I felt my arm break from the impact…."

"Christ…" Erik's eyes darkened.

"Everything was a bit fuzzy after that. I know I ended up on my stomach and he stomped on my lower back. I felt it then…another snap. Then numbness. He'd broken my back."

He turned away, his eyes shutting. "He broke your back?"

"Yes. He had intended to kill me, but by the grace of God, Aimee had left her house keys in my purse and had her date drive her over to pick them up. They heard me screaming and he broke down the door. Of course Jeffrey ran, but they called the cops and he was found and arrested. Attempted murder." I sighed.

"And you?"

"Surgery, lots of surgery. Psychiatrist after psychiatrist. Through therapy, I was able to function again, but it took nearly a year. Thankfully, none of the bone fragments had severed my spinal column."

"And what of him?"

"First offense they said. He plea bargained down to felony assault, ended up with two years in prison and five years probation."

"Slap on the wrist."

"Yes, but at least it was something. I was free. In fact, I'd as much as forgotten about him over the past three years or so, until…."

"Until me?" he seemed shocked.

"Yes. The cologne triggered it, silly as that is. He didn't wear Burberry Brit, but Ralph Lauren, but it was enough to make me think of him."

"So he still affects you?"

That I had to think about. I realized that I had told this whole story to Erik rather detached, not a tear was even shed. In previous times, just talking about it to Aimee or my Aunt and Uncle, I'd always cried. Not now. I've come further than I expected and it answered a lot of my own questions.

"No, not really." I replied calmly. "Yes, I was bothered by thinking of him again after so long, but he doesn't affect me…that would mean I cared and I simply don't."

"Where is he now?"

"Why do you ask?"

His eyes glistened. "Why do you think?"

I shrugged, "I don't know, last I heard, a couple of years ago, he'd moved out of Cincinnati."

He leaned in and stroked my cheek and said softly, "Well….you were very open and honest, I suppose its time for me to extend the same courtesy."

I nodded.

"Where should I begin?" he asked.

"The beginning. Why haven't you told me anything about yourself before the age of twelve?"

"You're a sharp woman to pick up on that." He said softly to me.

I didn't reply, I just waited.

"Well…." He sighed. "It might be easier if we start with this." And with that, he removed his mask, sitting it in his lap. That's it, no flourish, no loud organ music, just….

I looked at his newly uncovered face. My God in heaven it was bad! The very red, inflamed looking flesh started from the middle of his forehead and ended down just below his cheek, going from hairline to his nose…if he had a nose…half of it was almost non-existent. It was obvious, he'd been burned.

_He'd been in a fire?_ How awful…

He saw me gasp in surprise, but was not put off by it. "I know it's bad."

"I won't lie to you, Erik, it is bad. It looks like you've been burned, but there are thousands of people who've been burned, way more extensively then you and they don't go around with a mask."

"I admit the mask is not entirely cosmetic, but protective." He took my hand and placed it gently on his scarred cheek. I could feel very little flesh underneath, just skin and then bone…wow…I could feel his cheek and the teeth underneath…

He continued, "Simple everyday mishaps can cause serious injury to my face. Even something benign as an accidental bump…an innocent scratch from a dog or cat, the pat of a curious child's hand… can rip the skin, its very delicate, so a few years ago, I had a company make me a mask out of hard plastic, but covered with a colored coating to hide what was underneath. They've made me several ever since.

"I see…so, what happened…this couldn't have come from a typical fire….I mean it's so localized…"

"You're correct; it didn't come from a typical fire."

"But where…"

"It came from my mother."

My hand flew to my mouth. "Your mother…she did this to you?"

"With what?"

"A flat iron she used to press clothes."

"Oh my God! What in the world could you have possibly done to warrant this?"

"She was sick, there was no reasoning."

"Of course she was sick, Erik, she had to be…."

"No, she was _sick_. Clinically sick, Riana. She heard voices. The voices told her that I'd been possessed by demons and they had to be removed by fire. She chased me around the house with the flat iron…I tried to run but she was swift, she caught me in the bathroom and…."

I closed my eyes, too horrified to even comment.

"Funny thing is she truly thought she was doing this to help me. She loved me; she kept screaming that over and over…_I love you, I won't let them harm you_…I don't remember being burned actually and frankly, I don't want to remember. I just remember waking up in the hospital's burn unit, my face covered by lots of bandages."

"How were you found?"

"We lived in small farm area, not too many neighbors around, luckily my screaming alerted some people who were walking near the house, they called the police."

"How old?"

"I was nine years old."

"Where was your father?"

"At work, he was alerted immediately."

"And he didn't know how sick your mother was?"

"She was diagnosed afterwards with paranoid schizophrenia; it woke him up to reality. Before that, he'd convinced himself that it was just stress, she was tired from working two jobs and taking care of me….she was only twenty-eight…too young to have mental problems….her family knew she'd been this way most of her life…married her off, releasing the burden, admitting nothing…by the time Father understood the true meaning, it was too late…."

"Is that why you left Rouen?"

"Yes, we were the talk of the city, the poor little boy whose crazy mother had burned him. Father wanted me to recover in peace, so about four months after it happened, we moved to Paris. I spent three years in virtual seclusion, healing in the children's burn unit of the hospital there. A wonderful place, I still go there often, just to visit the kids, offer hope."

I couldn't help but smile at that. Sweet man….

"And this…?" I ran my finger down his neck.

"Additional burns they attempted to fix using skin graphs, some from me, some from donors."

That explained the different patches of skin.

"Did they try that on your face too?"

"Yes, but its hard to tell, they had to do something, my flesh was gone and all that was left was open wounds to my skull."

I looked closer and truly, I could make out small patches intermingling with the larger scars.

I smiled at him again. I had to know. "Is your name really Erik?"

He laughed. "Truly, my given name is Roderick James Renault III. Growing up, I was called Derick and my father was called James. Until college that is. My friend, whom I shared a small apartment with outside University was a fan of Phantom of the Opera, like you are. He said I should change my name from Derick to Erik…he said it would be more colorful."

"It is." I giggled.

"Yes, after college, the name just stuck with me. I didn't mind it."

"It seems as if you're ok with it, I mean….."

"It's who I am Riana, I can't escape it, but no, I can't say that I'm used to it."

"But you seem…."

"Outward appearance. In fact, you're one of only a small handful who I've shown my face to. And, only the second woman."

"Really?"

"Yes, the first one was a woman I loved very much. I wanted to marry her, but I'd avoided showing her my face….almost a year….I never showed her. One day, I got up the courage to show her and…."

He turned away and I knew…. "She rejected you."

"Yes. She said it didn't matter, but I knew it did. She was rather vain in that aspect. She liked the mask, it was mysterious, drew attention…but underneath…it was not the kind of attention she was looking for. We lasted, at the most, another couple of months after that. The distance that grew between us was just too much to bear. She never admitted that was why she couldn't be with me any longer, but I knew it was."

"I'm so sorry. Truly I am."

"These things happen."

I regarded him then and opened my mouth to respond, but his demeanor made me think otherwise, so I let it drop and changed the subject. "Umm..so….why isn't your Father with you in London?"

Erik laughed softly, "Stubborn old man. He loves it here. He's still independent, determined never to be a burden to anyone, especially me."

"Does he feel…guilty?"

"Yes…and no. He feels guilty he left my mother with me that day and she did what she did, but he understands he didn't know how sick she really was. She never left the mental institution. He went there to visit her once a week, every week until she died sixteen years ago. Through it all, I still think he loved her dearly. None of it was her fault."

"Did you ever see her?"

"No, never. I was told that her guilt ate her up so bad that she blocked all memory of me. Seeing her would have made it worse. Besides, I forgave her years ago, I didn't need to see her. I choose to remember her how she was, lovely dark hair….brown eyes, bright smile…of course that was before everything happened…."

"I'm truly sorry."

He sighed again and I took the mask from his lap to examine it. The inside was very sticky. "Umm….glue?"

He looked up and inhaled a fresh breath of air, "A special theatrical glue…strong but doesn't harm the skin." He took the mask in his hand and made a move to replace it, but my hand stopped him. I took the mask from him and sat it on the coffee table.

"No need to put it back on right now…I mean, its just us…unless you feel you need it?"

The sharp wind blew against the balcony door, making a sound that both made us turn towards it. Silently, Erik stood up, taking my hand. He walked me to the door and opened it, immediately, the cool wind blew in the room and I inhaled the fresh smell.

"Umm…nothing like a fresh rain…" he said softly.

Crazy as it sounds, before I knew it, we had walked out onto the balcony, the rain falling on us, soaking our hair, our clothes. Erik made a move to cover his face, so protectively, I did the same.

"Maybe you shouldn't…the rain might cause injury." I said, leaning into him, my hand over his face.

"No, it isn't that, it's just that I….I've never been out here without it, in the rain I mean…it feels so…"

I stopped him. Pulling my hands and his hands away, I took him by the chin and tilted his head upward. He gasped as the soft rain fell onto his face. I couldn't help but laugh happily at his expression, one of almost childlike wonder at something so simple, something that so many people took for granted…..or hated, like I did. How the rain irritated me, made my day bad, but for Erik, the rain to him was a new experience, an awakening of sorts. Total renewal. I felt selfish and catty by comparison.

"It's so soft and cool…" he groaned, his face still up to the sky.

I ran my finger down his neck again and he inhaled a sharp breath.

"Does that feel good too?" I asked him.

"Umm humm…" his eyes squeezed shut harder.

I then slowly lowered his head kissed his scarred cheek. Yes, I felt it was something Christine should have done, but really, I wasn't being Christine, I was just being me and truly, I think Erik needed it. I was correct.

His hand flew to my neck, pressing my lips to him while he uttered, "Oh Christ…"

I smiled against his skin, loving his reaction, loving I could bring it out in him.

His hands went to my hips and he held me to him, his breath becoming deeper and sharper. "Riana…."

I pulled away and our eyes locked briefly before he pulled me into another of those amazing kisses. And there we stood, in the rain, soaked to the skin, kissing as if our very lives depended on each other's lips.

Our secrets unlocked, nothing would stop us now, and nothing did. It was truly something out of the best romance novels, but it was happening to me…_to me_…


	7. Sad Goodbye

**A/N: Hi and thanks to everyone who have taken the time to review the story. As I said before, this story is completed, so I'm going to post the last two chapters here. Yes, very short and hopefully sweet. So, here you are, the final chapters, enjoy and again, THANKS!**

**Melissa ;)**

* * *

How I Spent My Trip to Paris

Part Seven-Sad Goodbye

* * *

It was the next morning before either one of us realized it, much less come up for air. We'd spent an incredible night making love, laughing, talking, then making love again. The alarm clock went off and I turned to see it was five-thirty. My flight left for home at nine forty-five. I couldn't help but groan loudly. The bed was too warm; the man next to me was much too warm. I hit the snooze and rolled back over into his open arms, my hands sliding under the covers, feeling his smooth skin, the same skin I'd taken delight in tasting every inch of just a few hours earlier. 

"Umm…you have to get up." He said, his voice still hoarse from sleep, or lack of it, he'd awakened me around two o'clock in the most delightful way and I'm sure we didn't sleep too deeply afterwards.

"I don't wanna…" I pouted.

"I know…." He sighed. "But you have to. You have a plane to catch."

A plane. Leaving Paris, leaving him behind. I didn't want that, not one bit. I looked at him and waited, my eyes begging…._tell me to stay, beg me to stay_…

But, it was not to be.

"Would you like to hang around for some breakfast before I have to go?" I asked softly, grabbing my clean jeans and t-shirt from my suitcase.

"I'd like that."

* * *

Breakfast was hard. We ate in what had to be the most total silence ever. I could see that not only was my mind occupied, but his was too. With what, I never found out, but it was hard to see him that way. It was as if he was pushing me away. I hated it. Truly _loathed_ it. 

Eight o'clock came and my bags were packed, being taken down to the waiting taxi by the doorman. Still, in almost total silence, Erik and I looked at each other as we headed to the door. I couldn't let it go like this, I had to say something, anything.

"I had an amazing time with you." I said, fighting tears. "Thank you…"

"All too short, but wonderful, Riana." He took me into his arms and held me for what seemed like an eternity, "You're such a lovely woman….I…." he sighed, "I wish you all the best." He broke away before taking my hand and together we walked down to the lobby.

_Oh man, so much for the storybook._

He let me go. That's what you get for wishing…..

* * *

The whole flight home I cried. Cried like a little baby. All I could see was Erik's face as my taxi pulled away. He looked lost, lost behind that mask…and what he said….his last words to me… 

"If you ever find yourself in London…."

I'd smiled at that and nodded, knowing full well I'd starve to save enough money to come to London, or Paris again….someday.

I opened up the small front flap of my carry on, reaching for my mp3 player when something felt funny. I pulled out an envelope, a simple white, sealed envelope. There were words on the outside, Aimee's handwriting.

_Do not open until you're on your way home from Paris!_

Good thing I hadn't seen it until now or the anticipation would have been too much. I opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper and removed it, reading slowly:

Dear Riana,

Sometimes wishing on stars isn't all that bad. Remember when we wished on the stars last night? Well, I wished for you to have your Erik. Your own personal Erik. I hope he makes you as happy and fulfilled as Cole has made me.

Je t'aime mon amie,

Aimee

I re-read the letter and shook my head.

_My God…._

I grinned through my tears as I looked out the window at the fluffy clouds and it hit me…I _had_ met my Erik. Even though I knew I'd never see him again, he was, if only for a short time, truly….mine.

_Nobody ever melted in the rain…_

Oh Erik, if you only knew just how wrong you were…..

* * *

The lights in the studio went up slightly as Riana heard Jennifer telling the listeners to call in and vote the next morning and the winner would be announced two weeks from that Friday. 

Some music played and it was over. Riana stood up and stretched as Jennifer sat down her headphones and came over to her.

"That was great, thank you for coming down here to do this." Jennifer smiled, shaking her hand.

"I was glad to do it." Riana replied, folding up the papers again and placing them into her purse. She checked her watch…almost ten o'clock in the morning, she had to get to work, lots to do.

Jennifer's nose squished up as she leaned in and asked, "By the way, this guy sounded too good to be true….tell me…was it the truth….did he have a mask, really?"

Riana gave a smirk as she walked out of the studio, "Well, let's just say that I still believe in wishing on stars…."


	8. Goodbye Doesn't Always Mean Forever

How I Spent My Trip to Paris

Part Eight-Goodbye Doesn't Always Mean Forever

* * *

"I didn't win." Riana said calmly to Aimee as they rode together from Riana's thirty second birthday party that had been given for her by her Aunt and Uncle at their house over two weeks later. 

"Win what?" Aimee turned to look at her from the front seat.

"The contest. You know, the Romantic Contest thing for Valentine's Day."

"Oh…God, I'm sorry…when did you hear?"

"Tonight, it was on my answering machine when I got home from work."

"You really didn't expect…."

"Oh! No, I didn't, but it's a little disappointing, what was worse was that the message said that the majority or listeners who called in said that they just didn't believe my story."

"You're kidding!"

"I know…I mean why would I make up something like that?"

"Don't mind them, they aren't the romantic type anyway."

She huffed and looked away, not noticing Aimee's smile.

Aimee reached over the seat andpatted Riana's hand softly. "If you'd won, where would you have gone?"

Riana didn't even hesitate when she replied firmly, still looking out the window, "London."

"To find your Erik."

"Is it that obvious?" Riana laughed.

"Yes, it is. I mean you met him inlastAugustand since then,he's all you've been thinking about." A larger smile crept across Aimee's face as she reached inside her purse and pulled out an envelope and handed it to her.

"What's this?"

"Part of your birthday."

"Uh? The bracelet was my present from you and Cole."

"Yes, but this is from me and me alone. Open it."

She opened it, her eyes looking over at Aimee, wondering what was on her mind. Inside the envelope, she pulled out, to her overwhelming shock, an airline ticket….to London! She gasped loudly, so loud that Cole, who was driving them, started laughing.

"Oh my God! These tickets aren't cheap, how did you….?"

"Don't you worry; it's one of those times that I'd saved up a few rainy day pennies for."

Riana scooted forward and threw her arms around Aimee, tears forming as her friend laughed. "I can't believe it…..I just…." She stopped as she examined the ticket closer. "Wait…" she pulled away and looked at Aimee, "this isn't roundtrip."

Aimee nodded, her own tears forming, "No, it isn't."

"That's insane, even if I find Erik and he wants to be with me, who's to say that he'd want me to stay with him and…"

"Shhhh….this is why we take chances in life, right?"

Riana's lips formed a soft grin. "My job…my family….my apartment?"

"Jobs can be found in London, and family, well we can always visit. And your apartment, we can sublease it until the lease is up in three months. Just pack what you can carry now, the rest can be shipped."

"I'm really considering this you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"What if he doesn't want me?"

"Then you've lost nothing and I'll send you the money to get a ticket home."

"And if he does want me?"

Aimee laughed, "Then send me a postcard."

* * *

The plane touched down in London just as Riana had almost bitten her nails down to nothing. She stood and gathered her carry on and panic set in. Suddenly it all seemed like a huge mistake. Here she was, in an unfamiliar city in an unfamiliar country, nothing but the last of her savings to go on, no place to live, nothing to go on, but hope. And that, at itself, was chancy to say the least. 

She walked into the terminal, looking around at all the happy people, being greeted by their loved ones, feeling jealous and envious at the same time. Her own mind, flooded by a million things she wanted to say to Erik when she found him, if she found him, started to hurt. All she could think about was finding a hotel, ordering room service and drowning her nervousness in a vat of chocolate.

Suddenly she heard it.

"Riana!"

Was that her name being called? Her head flew up and her eyes darted around.

Nothing. The crowd grew thin as they neared the baggage claim and she gathered her bags.

"Riana!"

Again, her eyes searched, sure now that she had indeed heard someone calling her name. Where was it coming from?

Finally, in the distance, she saw him. A man, tall, nice build, dark hair….the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen….and….a mask….was coming towards her.

_Erik! It can't be!_

She headed for him as fast as her luggage loaded legs could carry her. Right for him and into his arms she flew.

"Oh my God Erik!" she cried, clinging to him.

"How I've missed you…." He replied, nuzzling her hair.

She pulled away just long enough to ask the inevitable question, "How did you…?"

He laughed, "Aimee."

"Aimee? You've been in touch with Aimee?"

"Yes. She found me about two weeks ago. She told me how miserable you'd been and well, I told her how miserable I'd been, then she sent me an audio tape of you reading something you'd written about us and…." He shrugged.

_The radio station contest!_

"Really?"

He nodded. "I knew then that what we had meant more to you than just a weekend. It had certainly meant more to me; I was just such a coward for not saying so. So I sent Aimee the money for the plane ticket."

"You…"

Again, he nodded, then pulled out an envelope from his pocket and handed it to her. "Here, read this."

She opened the envelope and read the out loud the few words that were written on it:

_That's what you get for wishing…je t'aime, Aimee _

"This time I want to see the Opera House, rain _or_ shine." She said firmly, her eyes locked onto his.

"I thought you hated the rain….."

Laughing, she threw her arms around Erik's neck again.

_I love the rain…

* * *

_

**A/N: There you have it, I hopeyou allenjoyed it.**

**To Carillon: Yes, I started out writing realistic fan fiction and found it's something that I've grown very accustomed to. I've read several more modern Erik fics and some were done well, and some were not, so I decided to try my hand at it. I have a second one in the works, using Erik Renault, but I still have to finish it. But still, thanks so muchfor the encouragment. **

**I know the ending is predictable and cheesy, but hey, who cares? I love writing stuff that makes people feel good. Anyway...thanks again everyone!**

**Melissa ;)**


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